1.5

The door opened and in strode a questing knight if Jewel had ever seen one, though He was not dressed in full plate harness or even a chain shirt: it would have been a grave insult to suggest that Father could not protect a guest in the feast hall.

But his figure was muscled in that way the fitter footmen were, and he stood a good head taller than any in the room save Father and herself. Below his dark hair, a light scar crossed down from his brow and over his nose before glancing off onto a cheek.

She did not recognize the heraldry upon his tabard. But Jewel had hardly had time to memorize any but the houses of their closest neighbors.

The crier however was ready to do his duty and began to introduce him.

“Knight of Garmendan, Lothlar”

Father tilted his head in acknowledgement and uttered the traditional greeting.

“Be welcome to my house; eat and be at peace.” A gesture to a seat with a gap between the knight and Mother spoke of confidence, but uncertainty. So Father did not know what standing Lothlar had but was not at least overly hostile to Garmendan, wherever that was.

The bang of a spear butt on the stone echoed in the hall cuing the Crier to his next announcement.

Jewel idly flexed the toes of her hind limbs and clenched her tail around herself but she did not brush even a single scale upon the floor to feel the subtle tremble.

It would have been improper.

“The Esteemed Lady Sorcerer and Weird of the Autumnal Briarwood of Bothgola, Euewyn”

Wait what?

That was not the name that Jorge had addressed the Cat by!

Jewel could not help herself but gawk as a vaguely conical form made entirely of red, orange and yellow leaves glided into the room. Only on a third glance did Jewel properly apprehend that the leaves in shape and size subtly framed specific kinds of flowing features.

At the top was a tall pointed ‘hat’ with a wide brim, made of broad three split leaves that favored a bit more red than orange, riding over a heavily shadowed darkness that smelled of peat and old mulch and showed no visible eyes or features.

Framed in a more flowing fashion by somewhat hair-like strands, not unlike willow, were tiny little pricks of orange and red color, strung in chains of color that reminded jewel of clover, if clover turned the colors of maple leaves in fall.

This further draped over what she guessed must be a robe of slender oval leaves, continuing the theme of oranges and reds, mixing in a few deep amber and browns. Jewel presumed it was maybe a cloak or perhaps a very long and billowing gown? But really there was just no details upon the figure to tell, besides assumptions and the overall shape of a pine tree clad in the raiment of an oak.

Father seemed momentarily taken by the appearance but offered his traditional greeting and a gesture to the seat between mother and Lothlar.

Jewel was so flustered by the idea that there were two wizards among their guests that she barely had time to consider what that seating arrangement meant when the next strike announced another guest.

“The Esteemed L- ehr uhm” The crier seemed thrown off for something written on his scroll but then marsheled on “Esteemed Sorcerer and Weird of the Uloghai Bog, Su-” The poor crier again coughed on his tongue trying to say the name and then with a face turning bright red struggled through the rest on a few more breathily whispered tongue twisters before finally doing his duty.

“Tsulogothulan”

If the name was difficult, the figure that entered was something that — well, until this moment Jewel had been sure tapestries and histories were just exaggerating about the countenance of wizards, especially those that pertain to the difficult and strange to find details on the title of Weird.

But no, apparently those depictions had merely been as close as artists and weavers could manage to the actual thing.

What entered the feasting hall slithered in a way that Jewel came to realize she probably would never be able to manage.

Because, for all her slender serpentine form, she still was restrained by the encumbrance of bones that did not bend like rotten swamp grass.

It was wrapped in black clothes around a figure that was ostensibly human-like. At least in that it had two arms, two legs, and a protrusion that was probably a head. But each bent and swayed in a sinewy, sweeping manner that made Jewel even at her most bedraggled look absolutely rigid and graceful.

Legs, arms and necks were definitely not supposed to sway that much in the process of ambulation (she could not bring herself to call it walking).

And the diaphanous material it wore as robes Jewel thought was on closer inspection a many layered thing that looked suspiciously like cheese cloth and lamb gut-lining that had been dyed black and wrapped in layers sufficient to obscure whatever was underneath.

All of that would have been quite enough for Jewel and already strained her composure, but the head and what could charitably be called a hat (wide brimmed and also pointed as Euewyn’s but in every other respect nothing like it) were what froze her and the rest of her family transfixed.

It was like the result of someone, having heard a nose described like a beak, then took it terribly literally and sought to sculpt a smooth, pale, blue-veined mass of flesh into just such a shape; the proverbial sculptor however did so without understanding that such things as nostrils were necessary features of such.

It was sharp and fleshy and was the only visible skin in the entire figure, jutting out from a darkness framed by a billowing veil from the ‘hat’, everything else wrapped in the black cloth or otherwise covered.

And then the head tilted one way and brought a massive, singular eye embedded on one side of the ‘nose’ to look upon all of them.

It was honestly a very pretty eye, bright violet iris. Clear and hardly veined sclera, a keen and intelligent gaze in the pupil, and very full lashes.

But it was the size of father’s fist and every detail was so perfectly, exaggeratedly huge — right down to the lashes being bristly quills in their hugeness.

A few wet and soppy blinks audibly filled the stunned silence of the hall.

The figure poised in a posture that was absolutely bizarre in its normalcy compared to the fluid boneless jaunting slink that had gotten it there.

Finally, father found his words and, with a brief apologetic glance to Jewel (who could only stare blankly in dawning realization) gestured for Tsulogothulan to be seated next to his wyrm daughter.

Which to be fair, Jewel was a dragon and the least needing of protection from something horrific or uncertain. But Still!? REALLY?!

It took the poor crier quite a bit to compose himself.

But Jewel did not blame him, she had snuck her tail down off her perch to the stone of the floor so it could comfort her with the etched laughter of happier times.

The boy needed a solid three strikes of announcement before he could actually find his voice and his place on the scroll.

During all of which Jewel noted how the knight was frustratingly indifferent to the strangeness of either wizard. Even smirking a little in the direction of Tsulogothulan! Who blinked wetly and audibly in response. The lids were almost popping and slapping like lips.

After this Jewel was prepared for it to be a veritable parade of ever more absurd kinds of Weirds but the announcement spoken by the crier was familiar, if not precisely welcome.

“Esteemed Lord Sorcerer and Weird of the Demesne of Ghergeintat, Fizzbunches”

However, that Jewel now felt the presence of softly settling paws then a fuzzy rump and a tickling tail on top of her head was not at all expected.

Her father glared at the cat wizard, who had apparently not seen fit to arrive by the entry door but find a corner to sneak around to the top of Jewel’s head, Her fathers eyes fixed above her before offering the traditional greeting and then very pointedly gesturing to the seat next to Tsulogothulan.

Fizzbunches took just a moment too long to acknowledge father’s gesture before he leaped in a sweeping arc that barely pressed any force at all upon Jewel’s head.

The cat wizard landed in the seat so poised it was almost difficult to believe he had ever been anywhere else.

He was however only just barely visible due to the tops of his ears and his floppy and rather untraditional wizard headwear.

With that, the closing statements came.

“The house of Rochford welcomes you all! Let us eat and be merry.”

The voice of Tsulogothulan was soft with a strange foreign lilt that dragged on the vowels ever so slightly. But far too normal for the uncanny nature of the rest of it. Just low enough probably only Jewel and Fizzbunches likely could hear it.

“Must you always be such an over theatrical ponce Fuzzbunches? We are not here to antagonize the lady or her father.”

The cat fixed the blank faced side of Tsulogothulan’s ‘nose’ with an unamused glare. His voice, however, was quite clear and carried out to everyone in the hall

“If Lord Rochford wanted me to make a polite entrance, then proper seating arrangements for my personage should have been prepared beforehand.”

It barely required a glance from Father towards Jorge before Fizzbunches had enough cushion to see over the lip of the table.

Jewel found herself sharing a look of baffled commiseration with Tsulogothulan’s wide glistening orb of an eye. Utterly baffling that the most disturbing of the four guests was suddenly one she immediately felt a kinship with.

It was further cemented when a cloth covered hand bonelessly snaked its way up from under the table and muffled the cat wizard before he could say something else.

Father very diplomatically did not look in the cat wizard's direction, but seemed to share Jewel’s sentiment of camaraderie with Tsulogothulan. Who slowly blinked her one eye in acknowledgement to him.

Jewel could hear the faint slimy gliding of the wet skin against the orb so close to her.

“Well then, before we get to the business our guests brought before me, let us eat! A meal to settle the weariness of travelers before I answer your request.”

A muffled yowl of annoyance was met with a disturbingly uncomfortable spinning twist in Tsulogothulan’s neck as it brought that oversized eye to glare reproachfully down at the cat.

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The look silencing whatever protest Fizzbunches was trying to get around the coverings wrapped around his face.

Only after he closed his eyes almost entirely at it did the other wizard release its ‘companion’.

Pitchers of small ale arrived. Which was a bit odd for a feast unless it was to the taste of a particular guest, not out of the ordinary for their usual evening meals together as a family but normally anything warranting ‘honored guests’ would have called for at least one of the lighter wines.

Fascinating for Jewel, despite their strangeness, all three wizards partook, although Fizzbunches required his to be served in a shallow bowl.

Euewyn drank it the most normally of the three. The mug rose upon air gently whirled with hints of old leaves and the smell of coming winter.

Tilting her mug back in the cradled winds, the small beer was poured in an elegant arc into the shadowed void beneath the wizard’s hat and hair. There was a sound a bit like water bubbling in a brook but no scent of spilled beer, or the splash one would expect on the seat or floor if she was indeed actually hollow.

Fizzbunches naturally lapped it up, hilariously getting foam on his whiskers, but he drank heavier than was seemingly possible for such a small frame as a cat and was already on his third serving.

It reminded Jewel of how she used to drink her small beer before she figured out how to drink from a proper mug like a lady.

And Tsulogothulan?

The Bog Wizard stared at the mug and occasionally took incredibly languid blinks accompanied by deep gulping sounds in the general area of their? throat.

And the level of small ale in the mug dropped in ponderous trembling jumps with each raising of their? oversized eyelid.

Jewel had no idea how that worked, but Wizards were supposed to be strange creatures.

There was a further uncomfortable silence, even after everyone was drinking!

The void of conversation between her family and their ‘guests’ got tenser and more squirming with insinuations until finally Lothlar broke it, laughing so jovially it was like a hammer through one of the colored glass windows in the village temple.

“Hah! Well I honestly can’t say how much I appreciate your hospitality already Lord Rochford! A good solid drink being one of the least of them but still welcome!”

His words were sharply clipped and a little more rounded in places than anyone Jewel had heard speak before. It was not anything like Fizzbunches or Tsulogothulan.

He chugged a hearty gulp from his mug of small beer before belching appropriately and heavily.

“Truly no offense to them but my companions, being esteemed Lord, Lady, and Other Sorcerers have hardly been bothered by the trials, pains and filth of the road. And our road has hardly passed an inn or village on our way here.”

Fizzbunches gave a pronounced snort of disagreement. Which prompted a breathy wordless admonishment from Tsulogothulan

“So I must say, getting a decent and even HOT bath and a solid meal is more than welcome after the journey we’ve had to reach you! Praise be to you, Lord Rochford!”

Which prompted a toast that all raised their drinks too. Fizzbunches and Euewyn did so by levitating their drinking vessels without touching them.

The tension partly broken, Mother took on her role in family hospitality to further carry the conversation.

“So, from whence have you traveled to meet us? I must admit that I’m not familiar with the lands of any of your titles.”

Jewel could see this drew Alexander’s attention as well, her brother leaning a bit over the table to see the knight past their mother and the leafy autumn wizard.

Although Mother had left the address open to all their guests, it was only the knight who filled the emptiness that no one else seemed willing too.

“Well, I was drawn up on this quest when Honorable Lord Sorcerer Fizzbunches came through Garmendan. He had a small caravan for this business already but at the time it was just his lordship as part of the noble personages.”

There was a palpable lack of comment from the lapping tongue of the wizard as he seemed engrossed in his small beer.

“Then we met up with lady Euewyn shortly passing through her briar forest.”

The just mentioned autumn wizard continued to not make anything resembling the sounds of speech. But it was with far less disdain then the cat had managed to pack into his own silence.

She even turned to look between the knight and mother and offered some rather enthusiastic nods that rustled her leaves violently.

“And again with the Bog for the honorable Weird Tsulogothulan. They both had arranged it beforehand with the Lord Sorcerer, apparently. Although I admit the business of wizards was not part of my quest.”

Which got a nod, earning a pause in the Bog Wizard’s literally consumptive staring contest with a yet ‘untouched’ mug of small ale, along with a soft whispered comment.

“To be honest I’m quite glad to have had your companionship for the journey, my good knight. Lady Sorcerer Euewyn, I fear, has almost forgotten how to speak in any audible manner herself!”

The Autumnal Weird nodded in agreement and shrugged lightly.

“Lord Fizzbunches is direct and not one to waste his voice. It would have been an entirely less lively trip if it was just us three Weirds.”

A wordless grunt and another impromptu toast from Lothlar was matched by everyone but Fizzbunches (although he did raise his head and nod to the gesture before returning promptly to draining his bowl).

And then the first dishes began to stream in from the kitchen, most of the servant staff of the manor appeared present pitching in with aprons with obvious signs of use and mess upon them.

It was a bit strange, actually. Normally they would have called up serfs from the nearby village for the feast.

But here was just about everyone that served the household except the footmen themselves making a show to carry all the dishes.

And as for the dishes?

Well, first was mostly just a few salted and roasted medley of the smaller turnips and other root vegetables.

Fizzbunches turned his nose up to the offered vegetables and his plate was skipped before insult could be given but the other guests seemed amiable. Lothlar practically inhaled the meager fare with a laugh and loud chewing before continuing his tale of their journey.

“So after the Bog we split from the caravan, traders had business towards places with actual civilization-”

The other food continued to arrive as he extolled the adventure. It was honestly the usual boasting and careful gossip and scouting report Knights always brought to their father.

Jewel began tuning out the hunts for wild game and the tales of various creatures, threats and sightings that knights tromping on a quest through the wilderness accumulated like dust.

There was something very peculiar about the dishes being offered to them.

It was decidedly not anything much more spectacular than her family’s usual supper of roast haunch from a recently slaughtered bull, pig or ram. Plus a somewhat peculiar diversity of roast birds of many varieties and more assorted cooked roots, vegetables and other sundry with a smell of heavy pork fat, salt and dried herbs in the mix.

But otherwise there was not a lot of anything particularly artful. The bread was fresh yet plain, there was nothing but a few dried winter fruits from last year’s summer harvest. And nothing like what even the casual neighborly feast to share news and affirm alliances generations old.

It was all similar to the small beer serving as a starter.

Fine for private family dinners, but this was not the fare for entertaining guests except in the sheer variety of different animals being offered to devour (which Jewel enjoyed and was making a note to maybe request something a bit similar if with proper flair for her next hatching day).

But even then the additions, despite being an eclectic mix of different fowl that had been cooked and prepared, did not really fit together and had no themes.

Actually the smell of different hearths rather than the usual great roasting pits spoke that perhaps a few of the manor staff’s own servant meals were going to this feast. In fact, she recognized that particular whiff of char and firewood!

The hen that Fizzbunches was laboriously chewing every scrap of meat off of most certainly had been in the hearth whose smoke was in the air while she was flying around the manor before her bath!

This was not right at all, not even the most casual of welcome feasts was so slapdash as this.

And Father never called such a tithe as to claim the very supper right off the tables of the village like that! He took great offense whenever one of their neighbors did something even slightly similar.

Her parents would have been livid if this was the food delivered to even a minor knight’s feast.

But yet it was here and happening and they were not angry with any of it, even appreciative and apologetic to the staff working in positions quite unusual from their normal roles and duties.

She gave Father a furtive glance of worry and tried to catch his eye looking intensely at the roast hen that lord Fizzbunches was halfway through rendering down to stripped bone.

He raised his hand ever so slightly, keeping it below the edge of the table so only she would notice it. A placating but hidden gesture.

Yes, Father knew precisely what was going on here and he was asking her to not bring any further attention to it?

To trust him? She was not entirely sure.

Mother offered a smile across the way and a slight dip of the head and a gentle brushing of her hair behind one ear.

So she knew as well?!

This was a totally impromptu feast, and yet it was also the best that her parents could expect of the manor staff!? In fact, if she was reading it right, Jewel was not to draw any attention to that?

That spoke to even Father and Mother having been required to arrange this feast on incredibly short notice!

Just what precisely was going on here?

Jewel tried to ignore the weight settling in her gut that had nothing at all to do with her usual meal portions or the grinding churn of bones being rendered down to dust in her throat as she swallowed her own roast hens.